Duped
by iguessso12
Summary: Short series on first impressions. Each Robin has made a name for himself, even if they all share the same one. This is how the Robins first encounter members of the Justice League and start their own reputations that will last them a lifetime. A/N: Robin is not yet permitted to know the secret identities of the Justice League.
1. Duped

Superman Meets Robin:

"I don't really care if Lex Luthor is in Gotham City and has his hands on a metric ton of kryptonite; you should have just called me on the JL comm. Link instead of coming here yourself. Gotham is none of your business."

It was probably one of the longest speeches Clark had ever heard from the Batman, but he wasn't going to step down just because Bruce was feeling talkative.

"It is my business Batman!" he seethed, "Luthor is dangerous and I've heard rumors that you have a new partner: a kid. If I'm here I can help you investigate and protect you both if need be."

Batman scoffed, "Your way of 'investigating' attracts large crowds and damages buildings. Do I want your help? No. Do I want your protection? Absolutely not! So get out of my city."

Superman noticed that Bats hadn't mentioned the kid, "Bruce," he said warningly, "I don't feel comfortable about your endangering a child."

"Did you come here to track down the Kryptonite or to be my conscience? Because you aren't doing a very good job of either." Batman's growl was low and dangerous. Clark was treading thin ice; at this rate Bruce would use the Kryptonite on _him_ when he found it.

Superman was just about to speak when a small, caped figure landed lightly on the roof with the two other heroes.

"I finished patrolling the docks like you asked. You were right, they went to warehouse 9 with the…" the young voice trailed off as the small hero recognized the man beside his mentor. It was silent for a few seconds; Clark squinted into the shadows trying to see the famous Batman's kid.

"Robin," Batman growled (a little nicer this time), "This, as you might have noticed, is Superman."

The young boy took a step forward, analyzing the famous hero with masked eyes as Clark did the same. He saw a child, about the age of nine or ten, with black hair to match his cape. But to his surprise, the uniform was a heck of a lot more colorful than the Bats: a red tunic, yellow underside of the tapered cape, and green gloves. Clark's heart fell as he noticed how slight the boy was, he didn't look like he belonged swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the Batman. He didn't really care how smart the Bat was, partnering with a child is unacceptable.

Clark's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden interjection –

"Wow! Superman, in the flesh! SO COOL! You are the coolest Superman!" Robin jumped up and down with excitement (and if Clark's eyes weren't deceiving him, the boy did a flip ever so often). Superman cast his eyes to Batman, wondering if this was normal for the boy. Batman's expression remained unreadable, as usual.

Superman smiled, "It's nice to meet you, Robin."

The boy suddenly appeared _right_ in front of the Man of Steel, holding out a pen and paper that just happened to have with him. How had that fit in his utility belt?

"Can I have your autograph?" Robin's masked eyes were wide with anticipation.

"Sure thing, champ." Clark said, taking the pen and paper while sending a smirk in Batman's direction. He didn't miss the disapproving glare the Bat was sending toward Robin. Bruce was just jealous that his protégé was paying more attention to the red and blue clad hero. But Clark, after all, was a more social hero; he was accustomed to the admiration. With a flourish, Superman signed the paper and handed it back to the giddy kid along with his pen.

"Wow, thanks Superman! You're the coolest." Robin grabbed the items before suddenly running to the edge of the roof, "Well, I gotta go finish up now. See you…"

The boy's abrupt exit was interrupted, "Robin," Batman's voice was cold, freezing the protégé in his tracks. Superman watched the two in confusion. What was the big deal? It was just an autograph.

"Give me the pen." Bruce commanded the boy, holding out his hand for the offending utensil. Superman didn't understand why the kid couldn't just keep his pen. Batman didn't need to be _this_ offended.

Robin hung his head in shame, as if he had been caught robbing a bank, and handed his mentor the small fountain pen. Batman took his evidence forceps from his utility belt and carefully removed a slip of finger print paper from the barrel of the pen.

"Robin," Bruce sighed, "You need to stop trying to figure out the secret identities of the Justice League. They want to maintain as much anonymity as possible."

Robin pouted, a crinkle forming on his forehead beneath his domino mask. Superman was speechless. This innocent-looking boy was just as conniving as his mentor.

"Besides," Bats continued, "Superman uses a different handwriting style while in uniform (even he's not that stupid). You can't ID him by his signature."

The young protégé sighed in disappointment at his failed plan, yet he didn't seem overtly perturbed, especially by the Batman's scowl. Most people cowered in the face of the famous Bat-glare, but this kid just shrugged it off like it was nothing. Clark had to admit, the whole situation amazed him: the boy was like the Bat's happy-evil-twin.

"Here," Clark was brought to attention to the piece of paper he had signed being shoved in his face, "You can have this back."

Superman numbly took the sheet of paper. He was shocked to see that Robin, who only a moment ago had been an excited admirer, was now blatantly ignoring the Man of Steel. The boy didn't even give him a second glance.

"So we're tracking a shipment of Kryptonite now. Cool." The boy was serious, all-business now, "We gonna save the other case for later?"

"Yes. We'll start with Sector 3." Batman turned to Clark, "Head home Superman, we will handle this."

The two heroes pulled out their grappling guns and jumped off the building in unison. In seconds they disappeared into the distance, obscured by the ever present smog that covers Gotham City.

Clark stood stock still as Superman experienced something he rarely suffered from: shock. It was an oddity when the famous hero didn't get any attention, especially from children. He wasn't being petty; that's just how it happened. He was loved, adored, venerated (usually).

Curious, Clark extended his hearing range till he could make out the mechanical _whirr_ of the grappling guns. It was silent for a moment before…

"You know I'll find out eventually," Robin's smug tone broke the silence.

"Yes, I know." The Bat's voice held a hint of a smirk.

"After all, I learned from the best."

Superman didn't have to be present to know that Bruce was smiling proudly. Clark realized he'd been completely duped. The bird was a bat after all.

A few weeks later:

"Wow, Green Arrow, you are the coolest! Your bow is so neat too! Can I see it?"

"Robin, you better not be dusting that for fingerprints!"

"Aw, Batman! You're such a killjoy!"


	2. Decieved

Green Arrow meets Robin

Oliver was amazed he'd been able to convince his fellow millionaire-gone-vigilante to let him help take down a Gotham villain. But he had been in town, attending a local charity event with the famous Bruce Wayne. And it was the Penguin, working with yet another group of small-time freaks; the only strategy required to take them down was brute force.

The fight hadn't been going on for very long, but Oliver was confident, and it was making him sloppy. He'd had more than a few close calls, but Batman had taken the liberty to save his sorry behind like he was some sort of damsel in distress. He could feel the bat's disapproving glare drilling into the back of his head as he fought; guess he had more to drink than he had initially thought. But not everybody could be constantly sober like Bruce, some people choose to have fun and kick back every once in a while. Guess he should've known better than to relax while in Gotham

When Green Arrow got body slammed by Killer Moth before the Bat could intervene, something seemed to snap within Gotham's Dark Knight: something like his patience.

"Robin, lock on these coordinates. I could use your help" Batman's gravelly voice sounded in Ollie's ear as the Dark Knight sent out a short distance transmission via the comm. units.

_What? Robin?_

Green Arrow knew that only a few months ago Robin and Bats had split up. No one knew why, or whether it was temporary or permanent. Gotham heroes tend to keep many secrets, and normal people don't tend to ask. Oliver had heard rumors that Richard was doing the hero gig in some other city. Was it Jump… or maybe Blüdhaven? But regardless, why was Robin here now? And why hadn't Bats called him in right away?

Caught up in his musings he failed to notice a barrage of fireballs hurled in his direction courtesy of Firefly.

"Whoah!" a new, distinctly young voice called out, "Look out!"

Feet slammed into his shoulders, knocking GA down just in time for the fireballs to whizz over his head. A little bit dazed, he didn't notice the weight of someone crouched on his back till a few seconds later.

"Well, saving your butt was great and all, but I'm gonna go have some _real_ fun!"

Oliver grunted, as his rescuer leaped off his back, none too gently, in his opinion. Peeling his face off the cement, he looked up in time to see Robin flip towards Firefly. The boy dodged more fireballs, laughing maniacally with every evasion before getting close enough to deliver a swift punch to the pyromaniac's head. One down.

Without even a pause for breath, he was moving again, running at Killer Moth in a dead sprint. When a glob of acidic saliva hurtled in the bird's direction, he angled towards a nearby building, kicking off the bricked walls to gain enough height before throwing himself at his prey. Moth couldn't dodge fast enough. In midair, Robin grabbed hold of his antennae, landed in a crouch, and yanked. The sound of the mutant's head cracking on the cement could be heard a block away. Two down.

Batman helped an awestruck Green Arrow to his feet as his protégé continued to wreak havoc around them, felling the villains with apparent ease.  
>"Careful," Bats admonished, "You'll catch flies."<p>

Oliver snapped his gaping mouth shut, but opened it barely a second later to ask, "Where did you get this kid?"

It wasn't Robin, well, it wasn't the Robin that he remembered. Dick had been more cunning; a trickster on the battlefield. But this new kid… whoever he was, he was a god of destruction. He took the fight to his adversaries, utilizing a direct and strong offense. Not quite Batman's style, but the boy pulled it off.

The thump of The Penguin hitting the pavement signaled the end of the battle. Silence fell over the three heroes.

"Who are you?" Oliver blurted before thinking.

The boy gave him a puzzled look before pointing at the traditional _R_ on his chest, "Robin, duh!" Disregarding the archer's befuddled stare, Robin pointedly addressed Batman, "So you want me to call it in?"

"Go ahead," Bats's deep voice rumbled.

As Robin made his call, Ollie turned to his fellow vigilante, "So… um," he cleared his throat, "What happened with Dick? And who's the new kid?"

Batman ignored his queries; instead he stared intently at his protégé as he finished giving the police the information and ended the call.

"Well," Robin said, discreetly scooting backwards, "They said they'll be here soon, so I'll just… be on my merry way. You two enjoy the rest of the party."

"Robin," Batman's tone was commanding: the one he used on people guilty of a crime. "Give them back."

"Give what back?" the boy asked innocently.

"The arrows."

Robin laughed lightly, "What arrows?" he asked in false confusion.

Curious, Oliver reached over his shoulder to find his quiver bereaved of his explosive bolts. He hadn't even realized they were gone.

"_Jason_," Bruce's voice was low and dangerous, barely audible, "If you don't return them, it'll be no patrol for a…"

"Fine, fine! I'm gonna give them back. See?" the bird strode up to GA, shoving a bundle of arrows into his waiting hands. Innocently, the boy clasped his hands behind his back, plastering a winning smile on his face.

"All of them." Batman growled.

"Bats," Jason whined, "Can't I just keep one?"

"No."

"But why not?"

"Robin, we _already_ have explosive projectiles. You have bird-a-rangs or throwing discs. You don't have a bow, so you have no use for an exploding _arrow_." Batman sounded as if he had similar conversations with this boy all the time.

"You're just no fun." Jason grumbled, sliding the last arrow from its hiding place in his cape and setting on the stack in Oliver's arms. Still mumbling curses at his mentor, Robin trudged over to stand at Batman's side. Too busy acting dejected, the boy missed the small smile that flitted across Bruce's lips before he mussed his mentee's inky, black hair. This elicited a small glare as Jason forcefully flattened it back into place.

"This is just the beginning of the crime runs tonight," Batman addressed his colleague, in a tone that sounded almost upbeat to those who knew him, "I can count on you to watch these perps until the police get here, then make a reasonable excuse for my absence at the charity ball?"

Oliver nodded.

As the duo departed, Robin suddenly spun on his heel and shouted, "One day I'll get you! And you're exploding arrows too!"

"_Robin_," Batman sighed in a jaded way, "Was that really necessary?"  
>"Yeah, I think so," the new protégé said with a grin, his hands on his hips, "Gotta work on those dramatic exits. You know, where the villain shouts his final words of denial at the parting hero."<p>

"But we aren't the villains. Never will be."

"Still, it's good practice."

Relieving himself from another pointless argument, Bruce shot his grappling gun at the nearest skyscraper, and flew away, like a bat in the night (which he was).

"Wonder if the Flash has any valuable gear worth lifting." Jason murmured to himself, a wicked glint in his eye. But within seconds, he too had vanished, following his mentor into the murky, Gotham night.

Oliver had been deceived. The red, yellow, and green didn't make the bird. It was the constant source of smiles, the mischievous inclinations, and the unbreakable spirit. Jason might be a heck of a lot different than Dick, but there was no denying that he belonged at Batman's side. Bruce had always had a soft spot for clever boys; the ones that seem to get into the most amount of trouble.


	3. Discovered

The Flash meets Robin:

The Flash was in a bind. While it was true – he was the fastest man alive – he couldn't be everywhere at once, and that was why he had called in the Bat.

Maybe that was a bad idea after all. Bruce had seemed pretty fed up with him the last time they had talked. Well, Barry had talked; Bruce resolutely ignored his peer.

Though why anyone wouldn't want to hear about Barry's new ring was beyond him. It was something Zatanna had souped up for his fifth anniversary with his wife, Iris: a glamour charm of sorts. Now, all he had to do to transition from a mild-mannered man to the freaky-fast savior of Central City was touch the face of the accessory with a finger. It wasn't much of a time saver for someone who could already move faster than the speed of sound, but he got to rub it in the face of other supers (*cough* Batman *cough*) who still had to go through the whole costume-change routine.

But at the moment, he was really regretting his decision to do said bragging. He'd called Bats nearly ten minutes ago, and the man was rarely ever late unless he was doing something _very _important or doing his billionaire, playboy spiel. It could be a twisted form of Bat revenge, but he seriously hoped it wasn't.

See, one of the slipperiest Central villains was a man by the name of Mirror Master. He was a brilliantly clever scientist, but he was also – unfortunately – very mad. And by mad, we mean insane. Devious and foaming-at-the-mouth was more up the Gotham Vigilante's alley while the Flash dealt with things that were more straightforward. And – well – straightforward was not a term that applied to a man who was an expert in mirrors, refraction, and duplicity.

So that was how he found himself zooming around a warehouse that was completely abandoned save for the technology that was going to reflect the city into another dimension in less than three minutes. Mirror Master's laughter echoed around the hero, seemingly reverberating from every angle. The Flash had fallen into a few traps already, but thankfully, he'd remembered how to escape from the last time Batman had helped him with the same villain. But he still couldn't find the mastermind or the proverbial 'self-destruct' switch (hey, every villain had an 'off' button).

He skidded to a stop as a holographic image of his foe appeared in front of the scarlet speedster. A leering grin was on the old man's face as he spoke:

"Give up Flash! You won't be able to stop my machine. My house of mirrors has you confused beyond belief, and even though you have the ability to escape, I know you would never abandon this deplorable city. That is why I'm going to wipe it off the map! So you can go ahead and disappear with it!"

The whir of the machines in the warehouse was growing in volume, the power charging for its final act of vengeance against Central City. The speedster was left with no chance to do anything further. It was too late. And too late also came the revelation that the mastermind was not even in the vicinity. Mirror Master was orchestrating their demise from afar.

Flash bowed his head, clenching his fists with the bitterness that comes from hopeless defeat. And Batman – his trusted friend – had let him down. Barry squeezed his eyes shut, accepting his fate.

But that fate never came.

He didn't comprehend what happened right away, but he heard the engines suddenly cut. The momentum of the turbines simply ran out, a slowing noise that greatly contrasted his own racing heart. Barry opened his eyes, fearing the worst.

It was pitch black in the warehouse, not even the flickering of LED lights on mysterious contraptions glowed in the darkness. Had the transportation been completed?

Suddenly a steady light shone, cutting the veil of inky blackness: a simple flashlight. The speedster remained where he was. Was this person friend or foe? He couldn't tell; the light did not illuminate its bearer.

"Who's there?" He called, unable to overcome his curiosity.

"Me," the voice was young but firm and confident, "And I'm here to help."

The soft pad of feet was barely audible. Whoever this was, they moved like a ninja. Barry would have guessed it was a Bat, but it definitely wasn't Bruce, he'd have recognized Dick's voice, and Jason was…

"Who are…" he tried again, but was cut off by a sharp _shhh!_

"They're coming." The stranger whispered again.

"Who?"

"The flunkies! Who do you think?"

If Flash could have seen this person's eyes, he was sure they would be rolling them.

"I'm going to crack a magnesium flare," the boy – he was certain it was a boy – was speaking quietly again, "Don't look at it, but use its light to take care of these thugs. There's fourteen in all."

With barely a second to process the information, Barry adverted his eyes and a brilliant, white light flamed into existence. The flare was tossed to the floor and in the revealing illumination he saw a short, black cape flutter out of the corner of his eye. The enemy was upon him before he had more time to ponder the growing sense of familiarity.

Among the flurry of limbs and weapons that followed, he cause glimpses of his ally in the fray. The red, yellow, and black uniform was familiar, but the boy was not. He fought with a long staff, wielding it with two hands. Every action was calculated; not a single movement wasted. There was a dispassionate air about him as he coldly exploited every weakness presented to him in the fight. The short battle was over in moments between the two of them; exactly fourteen men lay unconscious on the floor in the diminishing light of the flare.

The boy said nothing to the Flash as he methodically turned each man over, tying their hands and dragging them to lean against a nearby, cement pillar. Barry could do little but watch him in confusion.

It was undoubtedly a Robin costume, but slightly different from the others he had seen. The boy looked to be twelve, an average height and more built than he remembered Dick looking at that age. His black hair was short, only slightly longer in the front where it stood up. His face was stony and serious for one so young.

Nevertheless, that meant that another boy had crept his way into the life of the Dark Knight: a man who had been torn up over the death of his last ward for the past two years. Bruce had fallen into the darkness of his guise, becoming more secluded and violent as the guilt of failing his partner consumed him. Batman needed a Robin, but he was unwilling to allow anyone to fill the position when his self-hatred was at an all-time high.

What was so special about this one? He didn't seem happy-go-lucky like Dick or mischievous like Jason. He was a skillful fighter, but had none of Dick's natural grace or Jason's overeager volatility. So far he had yet to say a word that hadn't apply directly to the situation at hand. Why had Batman chosen him?

A clank accompanied a chorus of buzzing sounds as the industrial lights turned on and gradually brightened.

"He's coming." The boy murmured, finished with his chore.

"Who…?"

Flash turned around to receive a mini heart attack. Batman was standing right behind him as if he'd been there all day, a black, chasm-like void in the featureless grey of the warehouse. There was a man, hands tied and looking extremely unhappy sitting at Batman's feet, glaring relentlessly at the Flash.

"Hey, Bats!" his greeting felt weak, "I didn't think you were coming."

"You called me. I came." His deep, gravelly voice revealed that he was _not _happy about something. Barry seriously hoped he was not the object of that displeasure.

"Of course," he tried to look confident with his hands on his hips, "I never doubted you."

The Dark Knight gave him a blank look as if he didn't give a lick as to whether or not Barry believed in him or not. His heavy gaze didn't last long; it moved to the boy standing resolutely in front of his catch of criminals.

"Robin," that edge of ice was in the Batman's voice. It was chilling. Barry flinched even when it wasn't directed at him, but this boy bore it like it was nothing. "I told you not to get involved. Observe: that was your order. Keep me posted but _do not_ initiate."

"I didn't _initiate_. In fact, I de-_initiated_ it. I shut it down."

"How?" the Flash interjected. After all, that was what he'd been trying to do.

Robin gave him a flat 'duh' look, "I disconnected the power."

"I had seven alternate energy sources and two backup generators," Mirror Master screeched from the floor, "An infant like you couldn't just 'shut it down'! I had them encoded and the interfaces were supposed to blow up any hackers attempting to break in. Even the Flash couldn't handle it."

"Shut up," Batman said quietly, prodding the villain with his boot. The man promptly shut his trap, gulping as he glanced at the vigilante and received a patented bat-glare.

"Cut the power and the machine doesn't run. It was a simple solution really." Robin said, meeting his mentor's gaze, "I'm surprised no one else thought of it sooner."

So he neglected to mention the firewalls he most likely had to circumnavigate, or the programs he most likely had to decode, or the additional control panels he most likely had to locate, or the thugs he most likely had to avoid. No biggie.

"In the end, we all did our part." The Bat growled, a sound that came out almost like a sigh for him, "Except maybe Flash. He just stood there and looked stupid."

"Hey!" Barry objected, "I resent that."

The boy was smiling, a tentative grin that lit up his face, "Well he wasn't completely useless. These punks had a hay day watching him run around. It was a fantastic distraction."

Bat's face twitched, the way it did when he was trying to smile. Only those who knew him well enough could recognize and appreciated the sentiment. He was proud of his protégé, if not a little worried by his interpretation of 'observation.'

Sirens wailed and gravel crunched as the police cars _finally _arrived on the scene. In the blink of an eye, the Flash had delivered all the bound men to the authorities outside. He didn't want them to come in and see all the help he had needed for this near-catastrophe.

"I believe introductions are in order." Batman declared when he returned, "Flash, this is Robin, my partner. Robin, The Flash, the Scarlet Speedster, Fastest Man Alive, blah blah blah…"

_Did THE Batman just say 'blah blah blah'?_

Ignoring the abnormality, the hero extended his hand to the boy, "Nice to meet you Robin."

The bird tilted his head, seemingly examining the speedster's hand before he took it in his own, "Yeah, nice to meet you…" Robin adjusted his grip, thumb pressing the face of Flash's new ring. In a millisecond the protector of Central City had reverted to his everyday attire, maskless. "… Barry Allen."

As Barry stood there, gasping like a fish out of water, the new Robin plastered a satisfied smirk on his face, "Let's face it. It's not hard to guess which of Bruce's acquaintances are supers. Capes have jobs in law enforcement or media where they get the first scoop on anything crime related. It's all very cute and original. It surprises me that more people haven't found out."

Batman chucked, but it sounded more like he was gargling rocks, "Not everyone has an eye for pattern and detail like you, Tim."

"No kidding." Barry mumbled, reactivating his ring. The boy just stood there and looked proud.

A moment passed in comfortable silence.

"Robin, Nightwing commed me." Batman suddenly spoke, "He's in Gotham and wants you to join him for patrol. I'm going to help Flash pick up here. Take the batwing back to the city and I'll meet you later tonight."

"Nightwing?" the Dark Knight nodded and the boy began bouncing in place, "YESSSS!" He was sprinting out of the warehouse less than a second later, "You'll zeta back then? See you later tonight!"

Tim's cape flipped around the corner and he was gone.

Flash felt the need to say something to his friend, but he was rather lacking in words at the moment. The boy, Tim, may not be like the other Robins, but he still had those unique gifts that qualified him to be a hero of Gotham. And he filled that void that Batman so badly needed to have filled. He was that someone to teach; that someone to look after; that someone to lighten his life.

* * *

><p><strong>A few author's notes:<strong>

**Tim is a little more difficult because he's not very similar to some of the other Robins. In Young Justice he seems so much more quiet and rather reluctant to let his abilities shine. I haven't read any of the comics with him in it, but I have done my research.**

**Tim is supposedly the most 'detective-like' of the Robins (and that's saying something, cause they are all super smart). He uses his intellect to out-think his opponents. He's the best hacker of the bunch (which surprise me, cause YJ made Dick out to be such an amazing computer freak; but lo-and-behold, Tim is BETTER!). Also, he fights with a super awesome bo staff (like a BAMF) to make up for his less-than-legendary combat skills.**

**Then there is the whole matter that he discovered Robin and Batman's identities when he was NINE! If he can do that, he will have absolutely NO PROBLEM figuring out everyone else's in the Justice League.**

**I'm not saying that Batman keeps the identities of his peers secret per se, throughout this story, just that he doesn't outright tell the Robins. He lets them figure it out for themselves as a certain training challenge.**

**Anyway, if you enjoyed this story (or any chapter), tell me what you liked best so I know what I'm doing right and what I can improve. Thanks!**

**AUTHOR OUT!**


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